


Blush

by abundantlyqueer



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-22
Updated: 2007-10-22
Packaged: 2017-10-13 01:14:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abundantlyqueer/pseuds/abundantlyqueer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Okay okay, I'll tell you the story, but there's one thing you absolutely have to understand first:</p><p>Elijah wasn't innocent, just inexperienced.</p><p>Orli couldn't handle his drink.</p><p>Dom had never really been in love before.</p><p><i>New Zealand wasn't like real life.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Blush

  
Okay okay, I'll tell you the story, but there's one thing you absolutely have to understand first:  
Elijah wasn't innocent, just inexperienced.  
Orli couldn't handle his drink.  
Dom had never really been in love before.  
 _New Zealand wasn't like real life._

"So, do you guys wanna, like, come over and check out some more of my games?" Elijah had asked.  
"I want to go to the pub," Dom had answered.  
"No, come on man," Orli had said, glancing at Dom. "I have booze at mine; I'll bring some beer and we can baste some aliens. It'll be really good."

" _Babysitting_ ," Dom howled when Elijah was gone. "Let someone else take a turn, we've already had ours."  
"No, come on man, give him a break," Orli said anxiously. "Who else is he gonna ask over? I don't see John or Sir Ian – either of the Sir Ians - spending the evening playing video games and listening to Elijah's weird ass indie bands. We're the nearest thing he's got to his own age group."  
"He's seventeen. His age group are home squeezing their pimples and tossing off to the Damart catalogue. I'm twenty-two; my age group are down the pub getting completely drunk and fucking people we wouldn't recognize with the lights on."  
"Elijah doesn't have pimples."  
"No, no he doesn't, because he's from Hollywood, where the shiny plastic people live."  
"Come on, don't be a bitch. His birthday's the end of January; two months from now, if he wants company, he can come to the pub with the rest of us."  
"Two months? My birthday's in two weeks – I'll be twenty-three. For all I know, the bloom might be off the rose by then."  
"Dom, I'm like five weeks younger than you, and I'm not planning on complete decrepitude any time soon. There'll be plenty of sex left in February, yeah? Stop being such a fucking girl about it."

"No, no, don't do that, no – oh – arse," Orli winces as the bright red car on the screen spins out and bursts into a flower of orange and yellow pixilated flames.  
He keeps thumbing pointlessly at buttons for another few seconds before tossing the controller down.  
"I totally did that on purpose," he shrugs. "It's more interesting if I make it hard on myself."  
"Lame," Elijah crows. "Loser."  
He's hunkered on one end of the couch, his knees under his chin, his hands under his bare feet, bouncing while Orli groaningly rolls aside from the prime piece of carpet real estate directly in front of the television. Elijah pops apart, knees heels elbows, and jumps into the vacated space. He gathers his feet into his lap, folding his legs lotus-wise, and cradles the controller in his hands.  
Orli leans back against the arm of the couch where Dom is resting his head.  
"That was really good," Dom says.  
"Dom, do fuck off, there's a love," Orli says, reaching for the beer bottle Dom's holding upright in the middle of his chest.  
"Nah ah," Dom says, lifting the bottle up and out of Orli's reach. "It's the last one, you miserable one six-pack bringing bastard. Drink the wine."  
"The wine's pink."  
"Should have thought of that when you bought it."  
"I didn't buy it, Liv did."  
"I notice she didn't drink it though."  
"No. She went straight for the vodka."  
"Wise girl," Dom says, lifting his chin and pursing his lips around the neck of the beer bottle.  
Orli picks up his glass and sips. The wine isn't just pink; it comes in a tall slender frosted glass bottle with a picture of a lily on the label, and tastes faintly of strawberries and roses.  
Elijah's little blue car weaves between heaps of burning wreckage. Numbers scroll in the corner of screen, counting down seconds, counting up points. The controller buttons click softly as Elijah taps them.  
"Sorry," Orli says. "I thought I had two six packs and one bottle of plonko del pink, not the other way around."  
He tips his head back to drain the glass. Dom watches the way Orli's throat moves when he swallows. Orli has large slender hands; his fingers cage lightly around the bubble of the wine glass.  
"It's okay," Dom says. "Open the other bottle of wine; we'll have it for dessert."  
Orli twists, glancing at Dom over his shoulder, smiling. Dom, his face already warm from a day of sunshine, flushes to the tips of his ears. He stretches his legs out along the couch, rubs the base of his beer bottle against his stomach.  
Orli's smile slides a little; his eyes flicker dark for a second. Dom reaches out, using his thumb to brush back the curl of mahogany hair in front of Orli's right ear. Orli crinkles his eyes, an abbreviated warning, followed by a sidelong glance in Elijah's direction.  
Elijah's leaning forwards a little, his gaze riveted on the screen, his fingers twitching on the controller. Dom and Orli look back at each other. Dom opens his mouth a little and flutters his tongue; Orli smirks. Dom draws a heart in the air with the tip of his tongue; Orli's smirk softens to a smile. Dom pushes the beer bottle in his hand down over his stomach, down over his hip, down until it touches the push-pale denim covering his groin. Orli's smile turns to wide eyed watchfulness. Dom's eyes flutter closed and his mouth falls open and his breath thuds out as he just ... pushes ... the hard cool edge of the bottle a little harder.  
"Don't," Orli breathes.  
The sharp catch of Elijah's breath comes before the crash and boom of his unsupervised car running smack into a wall and exploding in a deep red fireball.  
"Oh. Shit," Elijah says after several seconds of ringing silence among the three of them.  
"I'm sorry," Orli says. "We didn't mean to – I - "  
Dom sinks down into the couch cushions a little more, thumbing the mouth of his beer bottle.  
"No I'm sorry – I didn't - " Elijah says, his eyes absolutely huge, " – I wasn't - "  
"You're not embarrassed are yeh?" Dom grins, pushing at Elijah's shoulder with his foot.  
"No," Elijah says, the faint petal-flush high on his cheekbones abruptly deepening to rose-pink.  
"Oh good," Dom says, flexing his toes against the bone-fine curve where Elijah's shoulder meets his chest. "Cos, y'know, I wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable just because Orli and I – fuck."  
Elijah's cheeks go several shades redder, making his eyes look several shades bluer by contrast.  
"I mean, we don't always fuck, sometimes we just suck each - "  
"Dom shut the fuck up," Orli says. "Elijah don't mind him, he's just being a cunt."  
"That still makes you a prick," Dom says to Orli.  
"I hate to disappoint you," Elijah says, his voice perfectly even despite his blush, "but, hello, I grew up in the movie industry. I'm not gonna freak out if you guys - " Elijah's voice makes a glottal little click in his throat " – kiss, or anything."  
"Skip the kiss, cut to the anything," Dom says, sliding down flatter on his back and dropping his knees apart.  
"Dom," Orli says.  
"Oh okay, gimme the kiss then and save the anything for when the baby's gone to bed," Dom sighs.  
"Dom, I'm not kissing you," Orli says.  
"Jesus fucking Christ," Elijah says, his voice suddenly high and thin, "just kiss him already, I'm not gonna run screaming."  
"Yeah, what's your fuckin' problem, Orli?" Dom demands. "I'm alright for a fuck in the dark but you're not gonna kiss me with the lights on?"  
"No," Orli protests. "Come on man, come on."  
He reaches out, touching Dom's shoulder, the side of Dom's neck, the curve of Dom's skull above his ear. Dom's scowl softens very slightly.  
"Come on," Orli says again.  
He slides his hand between the couch cushion and the nape of Dom's neck, and leans closer. Dom condescends to accept the invitation, pushing up onto one elbow and lifting his chin a little. Orli's lips curl into a slight smile just as they brush Dom's.  
"I'm sorry," Orli murmurs. "I didn't - "  
Dom shrugs with one shoulder as he winds an arm around Orli's neck, pulling him nearer. Orli's mouth blunders against Dom's, then they get the perfect angle and their mouths fit together. Dom pushes his fingers up into the curls at the back of Orli's head. Orli has one hand braced on the edge of couch cushions; the other cups one side of Dom's face, Orli's thumb at the corner of Dom's eye and Orli's fingers splayed around the flushed curl of Dom's ear.  
They move together, a sort of push and pause and press of their mouths. Orli's eyes are closed, Dom's are heavy lidded, his irises gleaming under his eyelashes. Elijah's not breathing. He's not sure his heart is even beating, the space inside his chest is so suddenly immense and echoing.  
Orli's hand moves down from Dom's face, down the side of Dom's throat, down the curves of his chest and his stomach to his right hip. Orli squeezes hard enough to whiten his fingertips. Dom growls, a chesty muffled sound under Orli's mouth.  
Orli pulls back slowly, so slowly that Elijah can see the lush cling of Dom's lips. Their mouths separate with a wet whisper. Dom's lips are flushed rose pink, slick and swollen. Elijah gives a tiny whine. Dom's eyes flutter closed, but Orli turns his head to look at Elijah.  
Elijah's eyes are huge: perfectly round, and fever-bright. His cheeks are deep red. His breath sobs in between his parted lips, his shoulders shuddering with the effort.  
"Hey, it's okay," Orli says, his voice uncharacteristically thick. "Don't look so sad, little hobbit."  
Elijah shakes his head, incapable of speaking. Orli's eyes melt and his lips curve into a smile. He shifts his weight, leaning towards Elijah.  
"Come on, there's one for you too."  
"Orli," Dom says.  
"It's just a kiss," Orli says, never taking his eyes from Elijah's face. "He's been kissed before."  
"Yeah on screen," Dom says. "What about in real life?"  
"I'm not even a virgin in real life," Elijah protests.  
Dom moans, digging his heels into the far end of the couch as his body flexes involuntarily.  
"See?" Orli says with his face inches from Elijah's. "He's not even a virgin; one little kiss won't matter."  
Orli's thumb is pushing a point of heat into Elijah's shoulder, and Orli's breath is hot and damp against Elijah's lips.  
Orli's lips are warm and smooth and firm. He nudges his mouth against Elijah's, pulls his teeth over Elijah's lips. Elijah wavers a terrible sound open-mouthed against Orli's breath. Elijah's tongue flutters behind his teeth. Orli licks at it gently. Elijah lets go of the game controller, which tumbles out his lap, and takes hold of Orli's arms. Orli feels sleek and solid under Elijah's fingers.  
Orli pushes forward with his mouth, with his tongue. Elijah's on fire, breath and body and beating heart. Every flicker of Orli's tongue sends a red ripple of heat through Elijah's stomach; Orli's lips slide against Elijah's, and the heat goes molten and drips heavy sweet down into Elijah's guts.  
Orli lifts one hand, his fingertips brushing against Elijah's hair, against the rim of Elijah's ear. Elijah hears feels shivers the delicate touch, and moans into Orli's mouth. Orli's tongue strokes up the underside of Elijah's, touches, leaves him heavy-eyed open-mouthed and barely-breathing.  
"Yeah," Orli sighs, as if in answer to a question no one's asked.  
Elijah's gaze stumbles from Orli to Dom. Dom's eyes are like glass, his ears and cheeks flushed and his lips almost blood red. Elijah's eyebrows creep upwards.  
"Yeah, go on," Orli says.  
Elijah stops breathing. Dom, after a beat of hesitation, sits up. They stare at each other for another beat. Elijah kneels up, walks on his knees the couple of steps that put him right in front of Dom. Dom's lips are pressed together, tightly enough to make a white line around the red. Elijah glances at Orli.  
"Dom, come on man," Orli says. "Otherwise it's not fair."  
Dom looks at Elijah.  
"Just to make things come out even," Elijah says softly.  
He knee-shuffles another few inches closer. He lifts his arms, winding them around Dom's neck. Dom tips his head to one side, half turns his face aside in a ghost-gesture of negation.  
"Dom," Elijah whispers.  
Dom yields, leaning forwards a little, rounding his shoulders so that Elijah's arms slide further around. Elijah's fingertips graze the bristle of cropped hair at the base of Dom's skull. Dom dips his face, his lips touching Elijah's.  
Dom's mouth is softer and slipperier than Orli's. Dom's teeth have all kinds of odd edges and unexpected angles; Dom's tongue is broader and bolder, stabbing soft-tipped into Elijah's mouth and swirling between Elijah's lips. Elijah rasps the heel of his hand against Dom's scalp, the hard bright itch of the sensation a fabulous counterpoint to the smooth and slide and smother of Dom's mouth. Orli shifts past them both, unraveling onto the couch beside Dom.  
"I'm fucking my back up down there," Orli says, meeting Elijah's slightly stunned glance.  
Dom untangles his mouth from Elijah's.  
"Come 'ere," Dom says, tugging on Elijah's wrist as he leans back.  
Elijah blunders up onto his feet, half-stumbles, half-falls into the space between Dom and Orli.  
"That's better," Dom says, wrapping his arm around Elijah's shoulders and pulling him back in.  
Elijah's skin feels like it's on fire. His breath – or Dom's breath, they're too interwoven to distinguish – scorches his lips.  
Sitting – or half-lying – like this, Elijah's knee and thigh are pressed against Dom's, and his shoulder is tucked against Dom's chest. Elijah's left hand is caught between Dom's back – round tips of bone, shift of muscles and heat - and the couch. Elijah's right hand hovers awkwardly for a moment before settling in relative safety on the curve of Dom's waist. Dom's got one hand between Elijah's shoulder blades, and the other in Elijah's hair.  
Orli moves at the periphery of Elijah's vision; Orli's hip is a soft-sharp blade of bone against the back of Elijah's thigh.  
"Dom, stop hogging the hobbit," Orli says.  
Dom's mouth reels away from Elijah's, leaving Elijah gasping for breath. Elijah twists, and Orli's hands are already on his hips, turning him away from Dom and back to Orli's cooler kiss. Elijah can feel all his bones and joints turning to honey and trickling away inside him. Dom nuzzles at the nape of Elijah's neck, and Elijah groans loudly into Orli's mouth.  
"You okay, Lij?" Dom asks, every word blazing on Elijah's skin and making his hair creep on his scalp.  
Elijah nods, in so far as he can with his mouth still pinned against Orli's. He reaches back, his touch blundering on denim and tee shirt cotton and the rubber bangles on Dom's wrist.  
Orli's hand is rubbing slow circles on Elijah's side, pushing the hem of his tee shirt up in fractions-of-an-inch increments. Orli bites gently at Elijah's mouth, a shivery-edged pull and tease and tug of Elijah's lips. Dom's nose and lips brush hotly against the back of Elijah's ear. Dom sucks Elijah's earlobe between his lips; Elijah can't quite believe that he doesn't slump and drip off the edge of the couch into a sugary heap.  
Orli's got a rhythm going, a sort of halting counterpoint to their breathing. Elijah pushes up to meet each touch of Orli's teeth, pulls back fractionally so that it's he who draws the swollen and humming flesh of his lips free each time. Dom, to keep his lips on Elijah's skin, has to move with him. Elijah rocks, his slender body working the same push and pull without even noticing he's doing it.  
"Fuck," Dom breathes.  
Something in Elijah's stomach coils, uncoils in bliss. Arms, legs, heads – they're all very distant and abstract concepts to Elijah right now. He lives in his lips, in the skin behind his ear, in the pulsing heat filling his chest and stomach.  
"My turn," Dom says, catching Elijah by the shoulder and pulling him away from Orli.  
Dom's mouth is a ripe peach collision with no survivors. Elijah's dimly aware that he's sprawled more or less on his back on the couch, one hand in Orli's curls and the other on the stubble-rough curve of Dom's skull. Orli's hand is on Elijah's side, rucking Elijah's tee shirt up on his ribs. Orli is right there, his breath flickering on Elijah's face even while Elijah's kissing Dom.  
Elijah keeps rocking, keeps pushing and pulling even though Dom keeps their mouths crushed together as close as they can go. Dom's rocking too, a tiny insistent motion that rubs his thigh against Elijah's. Every time he presses forwards, the crotch of Elijah's denims gets pulled slightly. The friction, even dulled through denim and cotton, feels like a smear of blood-red bliss. Elijah squirms, amplifying every particle of sensation on his skin.  
Dom's hand brushes across the waist of Elijah's jeans, across skin Orli has already bared. Elijah jerks, gasping air sharply enough to empty Dom's lungs. Dom pulls back, breathless.  
"Oh God," Elijah snaps, arching his body to move his stomach under Dom's hand.  
"Yeah," Orli grins.  
"Jesus," Dom mutters. "Jesus."  
"Don't stop," Elijah says sharply. "Don't."  
Dom rams his mouth down on Elijah's hard enough to knock a muffled wince from Elijah and a breathy 'oh'from Orli. Dom's hand smears across Elijah's belly, up under his shirt, over the silky skin of his chest. Elijah writhes, his hips twisting and kicking.  
"Fuck," Orli breathes, leaning over them both. "Fuck."  
Elijah squeezes his eyes shut, furrows his eyebrows together. His small hand fists tight enough in Orli's hair to make Orli whine in pain. Elijah's body bows upwards, his ass lifted clear off the edge of the couch, his slim thighs tensed with the effort of holding himself – up, or together, or – something.  
Dom's shoulders round and flex with each push of his body. He's hip to thigh with Elijah, but Orli can see that he's basically just humping the air, just humping the heat beating off Elijah's skin and the wet-earth smell of Elijah's hair and the sheer want roaring through Elijah's young body.  
Elijah keens, a tiny thin frantic sound that leaks from the corners of Dom's mouth. Elijah's breath goes wild, shallow rapid panting. Dom lifts his head, eyes on fire and not entirely sane.  
"Lij - "  
"Ah ah - ah - "  
"Fucking hell Dom," Orli snaps, thrusting forward enough to slam his own mouth against Dom's velvet soft and spit slick lips.  
Elijah's eyes flash open, electric blue and lightening wild. Above him, Orli splays one big hand around the nape of Dom's neck, holding him pinned while Orli tongue-fucks his mouth.  
Elijah's eyes roll back, his eyelids flickering, and he just  
cries out  
and his hips bow upwards, his whole body pulling painfully tight and then shattering in a short sharp orgasm that leaves him, seconds later, gulping down air, flushed deep red to the tips of his ears, and utterly humiliated.  
"Jesus. Did you just come?" Orli asks.  
"No," Elijah says, trying and failing to stifle the instinctive squirm away from the wet and rapidly chilling mess in his underwear.  
"Get off the fucking couch before we fall off," Dom says, wiping his hand all over his face and scalp.  
The three of bump arse-down onto the floor, sprawling back against the front edge of the seat.  
"I need a fuckin' drink," Dom says.  
"There's only wine left," Orli smirks.  
"I don't fucking care," Dom laughs. "It'll do."  
Orli twists, his long body making a shallow curve as he reaches for the glass.  
"Here, hold that."  
Dom holds the wine glass with exaggerated elegance between his splayed fingers. Orli grabs the wine bottle and fills the glass almost to the brim. Dom drinks, his nose crinkled and his eyes squinted against the faintly sparkling sweetness. He comes up for air with the glass half-empty.  
"Jesus," he grimaces. "What do they make that out of? Fairy piss?"  
Elijah takes the glass from him and drinks the rest off in a long flourish.  
"Whoa," he laughs, feeling the heat of the alcohol washing through his body.  
"I'm gonna get the other bottle," Orli says.  
He refolds his extended arms and legs, and unfolds upwards. Dom and Elijah squint up at him, both of them body-perplexed by the length of his limbs. Orli hitches his jeans up on his hips, and walks a little unsteadily to the kitchen.  
Elijah, left with only silence and the weight of Dom's stare on his skin, begins to pick at the almost fraying seam of his jeans on the inside of his right knee. Dom reaches out, baffling Elijah's fingers under his palm.  
"Hey," Dom says quietly.  
Elijah's head jerks up too sharply, and his gaze meets and locks with Dom's too decisively.  
"Hey," Dom says again. "It's okay, Doodles, it's - "  
Elijah's breathing grows suddenly loud.  
"Dom," he says abruptly.  
He lurches forwards, banging his mouth against Dom's. There's a wince and gasp and then a groan, and Elijah has both hands wound up in Dom's sweatshirt, and Dom has one hand on Elijah's arm tipping them both against the couch, and one hand skimming down the front of Elijah's jeans to –  
"Jesus," Dom murmurs into Elijah's mouth as his fingers graze the chill damp denim over Elijah's crotch.  
"I didn't - "  
"You're still hard," Dom gasps.  
"No."  
"You fuckin' are," Dom snarls, leaning with the heel of his hand hard enough to make Elijah's hips lift eagerly.  
"No, I mean, it's not still, it's again," Elijah says breathlessly. "I'm sorry."  
"Okay, you need to shut up right now," Dom says, cupping Elijah's face in both hands. "Because, you are so fucking sexy it's not even funny."  
Elijah scowls angrily, but he doesn't get a chance to accuse Dom of making fun of him before Dom slams their mouths together again. The couch skids several inches under their combined weight, and Elijah is abruptly on his back on the floor. There's a few seconds of blind grappling, and then Dom's securely on top of Elijah.  
Dom keeps his mouth on Elijah's, shoving his tongue as deep as he can to stifle any objections on Elijah's part. But the way Elijah parts his thighs when Dom tries to push his hand between Elijah's legs suggests Elijah doesn't have any objections – not serious ones, anyhow.  
"Oh. That's fucking lovely," Orli says crossly when he comes back, wine bottle in hand.  
Dom manages to drag his mouth away from Elijah's, lifting his head to look at Orli. Elijah, wild-eyed and writhing, rolls his head in Orli's direction too.  
"Fuck. That is fucking lovely," Orli says. "Don't let me interrupt."  
Dom grins down at Elijah, who stares back in stunned silence. Dom's pushes his hand into Elijah's crotch, rubbing the plump curves of Elijah's balls through damp-stiffened denim. Elijah's eyelids flicker feverishly, and he groans loudly. Orli hisses.  
"Yeah," Dom growls. "Come on, give it up."  
Elijah manages to frown himself back into focus.  
"Wha – what?" he mutters shakily.  
"I wanna fuck you," Dom says. "Let me fuck you."  
"I don't – I'm not – I didn't - "  
"Dom, why don't you sit this dance out?" Orli says sharply.  
Dom, scowling, scrambles up off Elijah and throws himself onto the couch.  
"Don't mind him, he's a fucking animal," Orli says, offering Elijah his free hand.  
Elijah accepts the pull from Orli that gets him back up on his feet.  
"Okay, let's just have another couple of drinks and hang out," Orli says, sitting down so that he's between Dom and Elijah.  
Orli fills the single wineglass again. He takes a couple of sips before passing the glass to Elijah. Elijah hesitates slightly, but then he shrugs and lifts the glass to his lips. He closes his eyes, and swallows steadily until the glass is almost empty.  
"Tastes like pink Kool Aid," he hiccups.  
Orli refills the glass and passes it to Dom.  
"Well, ladies," Orli says, draping both arms along the back of the couch. "This is very cozy."  
"Delightful," Dom says as he sinks his nose into the wineglass.  
Orli beams at him with determined cheerfulness, then glances at Elijah, who's frowning slightly and shifting uncomfortably.  
"You okay there, Lijah?" Orli asks sweetly.  
Elijah's frown intensifies.  
"Fine," he says through gritted teeth.  
"That spunk stain must be getting cold," Dom says, leaning forward so he can see past Orli.  
"Dom, fuck off," Elijah snaps.  
"Oh what? Are we supposed to pretend we don't know? I can smell spunk," Dom leers.  
Elijah's annoyance collapses back into pink-cheeked embarrassment.  
"Go change your jeans," Orli says, nudging Elijah's side gently. "Go on. We'll wait."  
Elijah hesitates; Orli nods encouragingly. Elijah peels himself up out of the couch and walks out, carefully avoiding any eye contact with Dom. Dom and Orli sit in silence for several seconds.  
"That was - " Orli begins.  
"I know."  
"Jesus, he's - "  
"I know, I nearly fucking - "  
"Yeah, me too."  
"Fuck," Dom spits, bodily throwing himself into Orli's lap, shoving his mouth against Orli's mouth, and his hand between Orli's thighs to squeeze Orli's erection hard.  
"Oh, God," Orli moans against Dom's mouth.  
"What would you do? What would you do to him?"  
"Oh God. I'd strip him fucking naked – can you imagine?" Orli says breathlessly as Dom slides and squirms against him. "I bet he's pure white all over, soft as a girl - "  
"Except - "  
" – except for his dick," Orli grins. "His dick is rock hard, ready to just fucking come."  
"The dirty mouth on you," Dom smirks.  
Orli opens his mouth wide, and Dom shoves his tongue as far in as it'll go. The two of them wrestle around a little, Dom trying to get a leg between Orli's thighs and Orli trying to do the same to Dom. They keep diverting each other – and themselves – with slick wet kisses.  
"Oh," Elijah says, from the doorway. "Whoa."  
Dom takes advantage of the distraction to shove his thigh up between Orli's legs; Orli arches, eyes squeezed shut and mouth wide open. Elijah, his hand already suspiciously close to the crotch of his track-pants, has to grip himself tight to avoid another mishap.  
Orli pushes Dom off a bit.  
"We were just talking about you," Orli says.  
"Making fun of me, you mean," Elijah says. "Taking the piss, right?"  
"No," Dom says. "No, that wasn't it at all."  
He sounds so serious that Elijah's arch defensiveness falls away.  
"No?"  
"No. Come'ere," Dom says, extracting his hand from the back of Orli's jeans and extending it to Elijah.  
Elijah idles the few steps from the doorway and stands in front of the couch. He's barefoot; his toes curl and flex against the rug. He reaches out, his roughened fingertips curling over in Dom's palm.  
"Come on," Dom says, as Orli tips back a little, opening up an almost space between himself and Dom.  
Elijah looks down at the slight accommodation in the angle between Orli's thigh and Dom's hip.  
"Come on," Dom says again, tugging gently on Elijah's hand.  
Elijah, frowning slightly, puts his knee on the edge of the couch-seat and lets them turn him, gather him down partly between the two of them but mostly in Orli's lap. Orli strokes his fingers down the nape of Elijah's neck, around the collar of Elijah's polo shirt.  
Dom leans forwards, pressing his own chest against Elijah's, pressing Elijah back more firmly against Orli. Elijah's weight shifts slightly, and he's suddenly pushed bottom-first against the unmistakable lump of Orli's erection. Orli makes a fantastic sound close to Elijah's ear – a low, chesty groan – and he stirs slowly but deliberately under Elijah.  
Dom's lips are inches away from Elijah's lips.  
"Orli says kisses don't count," Dom says.  
His voice is clotted, lower than it should be.  
"They don't," Elijah says breathily.  
Dom closes his eyes in affirmation, or acceptance ... Elijah closes his eyes too, giving himself up again to the heat and slip and squirm of Dom's mouth. Dom's kiss is heavy, weighty enough to tip Elijah's head back until it rests on Orli's shoulder. Orli's hand – Elijah's reasonably sure it's Orli's hand, at any rate – drops down the side of Elijah's neck, down his chest, down to his hip, and then moves back up, gentle, patient ... persistent. Dom's hands are on Elijah's hips, gripping him hard, pulling him in closer. Since kisses don't count, Dom's decided to gorge himself, it seems.  
Elijah's burning again; the slight respite of orgasm and embarrassment might never have happened at all. He clutches at them both, one hand on Orli's thigh, the other in Dom's hair. Orli's murmuring soft shapeless sounds against Elijah's ear, his fingers tracing delicate circles on the bare skin of Elijah's arms.  
Dom pulls back, both hands still pushing Elijah against Orli's body. Elijah stares at Dom's face for a second – iron-black eyes, flushed cheeks and lips – and then Orli's whispers tug his head ... around, so he can look up at Orli over his shoulder.  
Orli's hands on Elijah's body turn him, twist him over in Orli's lap so they're face to face. Orli kisses him, his eyes open and fixed on Dom. Elijah shivers, the sense of Orli's gaze sliding past him to Dom drawing the three of them into the same moment of breath and heartbeat.  
Orli tilts Elijah, settling him against the backrest of the couch. Dom is sprawling along the seat, half-reclining against the armrest at the other end. Orli rubs his hand in the middle of Elijah's chest.  
"Will you let me take this off, hmm?" Orli asks, nudging the tip of his nose into the curl of hair in front of Elijah's right ear.  
Elijah ducks his head, blushing deep pink. He makes the mistake of looking away from Orli, his glance catching on Dom's rapt gaze.  
"Oh," Elijah breathes.  
"No?" Orli murmurs. "You won't let me? Just this, hmm?"  
He takes hold of the collar of Elijah's gray polo shirt and tugs gently.  
Elijah manages to unhook his eyes from Dom's and looks up at Orli. Elijah's lips move very slightly; he doesn't actually say anything, but Orli smiles in perfect comprehension.  
"Yeah," he grins, gathering up a fistful of cloth over Elijah's stomach.  
Elijah chews on his lower lip, flushing even more deeply as Orli pushes the shirt hem higher.  
"Just this," Orli says again, though he's got the black tee shirt Elijah's wearing next to his skin caught up in his hand as well.  
Elijah eases forward a little, giving Orli the space to pull both layers right up and off. Dom exhales hard as Elijah falls back against the couch cushions, bare to the waist.  
"Oh ... yeah," Orli grins.  
Elijah's blush spreads down his throat to the notch between his collarbones.  
"Pretty, pretty," Orli murmurs, trailing his lips under the lobe of Elijah's ear, and his fingers down Elijah's ribs.  
Elijah clutches at Orli's arm. His skin shimmers under Orli's hand, pale gooseflesh springing up ahead of Orli's touch. His nipples pull tight, standing up in hard little pips of flesh just a shade pinker than his skin.  
"You're really pretty, Lij," Orli says, brushing his fingers lightly across Elijah's left nipple.  
Elijah gasps sharply, turns his head against the couch cushions.  
"Nice?" Orli asks, his fingers sweeping back in the opposite direction.  
Elijah makes a throaty little sound, neither agreement nor disagreement, but his thumb starts to circle slightly in the dense flesh of Orli's biceps. Orli takes the hint, drawing his thumb across the peak of Elijah's nipple and then circling it with the same gradually increasing pressure that Elijah's exerting on his arm. Elijah's brows gather together anxiously, and his touch stutters and stops on Orli's skin.  
The sound of Dom pulling his sweatshirt off over his head is distinct enough in the breathy silence to make both Orli and Elijah look in his direction. Orli grins; Elijah shifts restlessly against Orli's side.  
"Hey," Dom says softly, rubbing lightly at the faint fuzz of hair on his breastbone.  
Elijah's eyes flicker towards and away from Dom's skin before settling on Dom's slowly moving fingers. Orli, watching Dom from the corners of his eyes, flicks his tongue against Elijah's ear. Elijah moans, a fragment of sound that he shuts down by biting his lower lip.  
"Elijah," Dom says, pushing up onto his knees, arching his spine enough to push his hips forwards.  
Elijah's gaze darts from Dom's crotch to his eyes and back in the space of a second. The tip of Orli's tongue circles hotly under Elijah's earlobe, his thumb still circling on Elijah's nipple. Elijah shivers, crosscurrents of sensation tugging his attention in all different directions.  
Dom leans back, his hand dropping down between his own legs. His long fingers scoop and slide and stroke, working over and around the clearly visible length of his cock stiff and slanted inside his worn jeans. Orli's mouth stutter-steps from Elijah's earlobe, down the side of his neck, into the hollow of his collarbone. Orli's hand goes down Elijah's ribs, over his hip, brushes over the tented front of his track pants.  
"Ready to go again, yeah?" Orli grins against Elijah's chest.  
"Jesus," Elijah says, still staring at Dom. "Jesus. Jesus."  
"Let's not wreck these as well though," Orli says, plucking at the drawstring.  
"It's okay," Elijah says, reaching down to intercept Orli. "They're old."  
"Lij," Orli says patiently. "If you take them off, I can hold your cock."  
"No," Elijah scowls, though his fist in the pit of his stomach is pushing against the protrusion of his erection as much as it's pushing against Orli's fingers. "I don't want ... "  
There's too much dismay and not enough distaste in his voice; Orli and Dom exchange a puzzled glance. Orli looks back at Elijah, dipping and lifting his face in a coaxing gesture that could break a harder case than Elijah any day of the week.  
"I can't," Elijah says, his eyes sliding away from Orli's.  
Orli's worried frown gives way to a sympathetic smile.  
"Lij, there's nothing wrong with you."  
"What?" Elijah snaps, finding whole new worlds of blushing embarrassment.  
"Whatever you think is wrong with you ... it's okay," Orli insists. "I won't let guys do me from behind, because I don't want them staring at my scar. Jesus, for years Dom wouldn't have sex unless he was wearing a hat, because of his ears."  
"Hey!" Dom says, outraged. "Big ears, big fucking dick, man."  
Elijah laughs, taking his hand away from the waist of his pants to shove Orli's shoulder dismissively.  
"Seriously, let Doctor Bloom take a little look," Orli smirks.  
"No, fuck off," Elijah laughs, twisting a little.  
"Look, I'll close my eyes," Orli says, doing so.  
Elijah's momentarily distracted. Orli leans in, touching his lips to Elijah's chest, just below his collar bone.  
"I'll look with my eyes closed," Orli murmurs, and either the words or the heat of them feathering on Elijah's skin or the brush of Orli's lips convinces him.  
"What ... what about Dom?" he manages to ask, his eyelids fluttering almost closed as Orli's mouth makes slow but steady progress down his ribs.  
"Dom won't look either," Orli says, making no attempt to sell the line at all.  
Elijah glances at Dom, and apparently Dom's eyes – wide open, consuming each flicker of Orli's tongue against Elijah's skin – are acceptable after all. Elijah pushes up a little from the hips; Orli reads the intention perfectly, and tucks his fingers into the drawstring waist of Elijah's pants and eases them down, pulling and pushing until they're gathered below Elijah's knees.  
Orli's fingers move across the taut white skin of Elijah's belly, down into the damp curls of silky dark hair around the root of his cock. Elijah's breathing roughly, biting his lip, shifting and squirming under Orli's weight.  
Orli reaches further down, slipping his fingertips along the crease where thigh meets groin meets balls. Elijah jerks slightly, stills again as Orli's hand keeps moving, palming the slack weight aside, stroking back along the cleft of Elijah's behind. Elijah's breath breaks, goes uneven.  
Orli hums, his eyes still closed, and unravels down onto his knees on the floor in front of the couch. He nudges in against Elijah's shins, against the rucked up mess of Elijah's track pants.  
"Orli," Elijah warns.  
He flashes Dom a look, panic-stricken, but Dom's staring at Orli and slowly sliding his tongue over his own lips. Orli keeps nudging and nuzzling, brushing his lips lightly against Elijah's hip, against the front of his thigh, against the underside of his balls. Elijah twists restlessly. His cock pulses against his belly, hard and red and oozing a clear string of mucus into his navel.  
"Fuck," Dom says very shakily.  
Orli runs his hands down the backs of Elijah's thighs, down the backs of his calves, gathering Elijah's track pants and pulling them right down, right off over his bare feet. Elijah's toes curl against the carpet.  
Orli shoves the bundled pants aside, and moves in even closer. He guides Elijah's knees further apart. Elijah lets his thighs fall open. Orlando strokes down the faintly fuzzed skin of Elijah's shins to his ankles, takes hold of them one at a time and guides Elijah to lift his feet from the floor, to raise his legs up so his calves are resting on Orli's shoulders. The shift of Elijah's weight tips him back into the couch cushions, leaves him off-balance and ungrounded.  
"Come on," Orli murmurs, leaning down and in, tucking his shoulders further under the backs of Elijah's thighs.  
Elijah gasps, alarmed by the awkwardness of the position and his lack of leverage and the way Orli just dips his head and Elijah's hips lift without any instruction from him, and Orli's mouth is soft and hot and Elijah's cock just  
slides in.  
Elijah's body arches, his heels digging into Orli's shoulder-blades, his belly stretched taut, his ribs lifting hard under his skin.  
"F – f – fuck," he stutters, afraid to move or breathe or even think in case he tips over whatever razor-edge of self-control he's on.  
Orli takes his time, working his lower jaw a little, just pressing and pushing the flat of his tongue on the underside of Elijah's cock.  
"Fuck it," Dom says very quietly, very fervently.  
Elijah manages to turn his head slightly to look in Dom's direction. Dom's jeans are hanging open, his hand moving slowly up and down inside the fly. Elijah has to close his eyes tightly to crush out the image, and the sudden pulse of pressure in his balls it causes.  
Orli tips his head forwards and unravels Elijah's thighs from over his shoulders. Keeping the contact of his mouth with Elijah's cock – a slipping stuttering faintly dangerous feeling – he gets Elijah sitting on the edge of the couch again. Orli puts his hands on Elijah's thighs and dips his head again.  
Elijah's cock slides deeper into his throat, plumbing straight back. Elijah's arms, braced behind him on the back of the couch, start to shake.  
"I'm – oh - " he sighs.  
Orli's not really doing anything, just holding Elijah's cock in his mouth, idling his tongue in slow circles, just keeping things wet and easy. Really, it's Elijah's shaking and shivering that's providing most of the motive power at this point. And then, for no apparent reason, Orli starts sucking.  
Elijah's entire body pulls tight, pulls tense. Elijah makes a hilarious noise – outraged and overwhelmed all at the same time – and tries to wriggle free without sustaining an injury from Orli's teeth.  
Orli coughs and spits Elijah's cock out. Elijah collapses back among the couch cushions. Dom sits back on his kneels and scratches his nose.  
"Jesus," Elijah says. "You're really fucking good at that."  
Orli smiles, lifting his chin up like a cat getting its head stroked.  
"Yeah, so I'm told."  
He hefts himself back up onto the couch next to Elijah.

"You're nice," Orli says. "Taste nice ... feel nice."  
Elijah shrugs with one-shoulder.  
"Really nice," Orli insists, touching Elijah's chest, stroking down over his belly into his pubic hair. "Nice little hobbit."  
Elijah holds his breath. His cock is sticking up stiffly, red and glossy and slightly pulsing.  
"Nice," Orli says, " ... nice ... "  
Orli's hand slips lower, down the sweat-soft crease between Elijah's balls and his inner thigh.  
"Open your legs," Orli whispers, and since Elijah's still spread-eagled from having Orli kneeling between his thighs, it's more a failure to refuse than an actual decision to obey that lets Orli slide his hand down further, down behind Elijah's balls into the hot damp cleft between his buttocks.  
Elijah makes a fierce, sharp sound, both knees jerking slightly. Orli closes his eyes, his fingertips dipping and dragging around and across Elijah's anus. Elijah's scowling, hissing his breath in and out between his teeth, but he doesn't resist, doesn't refuse.  
Orli's got the spot, got his fingertips pressed together over the opening. He works his fingers in a small circle. Elijah groans, letting his thighs fall even further apart.  
Orli's murmuring, not words, just soft little noises of reassurance and appreciation. Elijah still has his eyes pressed shut, his face turned against Orli's arm. He's chewing on his lip, pulling the swollen red flesh between his teeth. The rest of his body is almost pearl white, except for the flush of his cock.  
"Jesus," Dom breathes, "that is so – fucking - wrong."  
Elijah makes a small sound, his eyebrows folding together.  
"Shh," Orli says, leaning down even more over Elijah, ghosting his lips along Elijah's profile. "He means because you're really fucking sexy."  
Elijah's fingers flex and fist on the front of Orli's shirt. Orli glances up at Dom.  
"Lube," Orli mouths silently, pursing his lips around the word.  
Dom's eyes go round.  
"Something," Orli insists.  
Dom's backing away, tearing his gaze with painful difficulty off Elijah's face and Elijah's body and Elijah skinny hips tilting up to meet each subtle shift of the muscles in Orli's arm.  
Dom stands up, staggering slightly at the sudden shift of weight and heat and decision. He stumbles for the downstairs bathroom before remembering there's nothing but toilet paper, pump-dispenser hand soap, and a pile of game magazines in there. He lurches upstairs, into Elijah's bedroom, almost falling over scattered clothes and a cunningly half-covered Doc Marten boot on the floor. He slaps the lights on in the ensuite bathroom.  
There are dozens of bottles and cans and jars on the marble countertop and around the edge of the basin – hair wax, hair paste, hair clay, hair gel. Four kinds of deodorant, six kinds of cologne, two kinds of shaving foam.  
"Shit," Dom hisses, as some of the taller containers fall and roll and hit the floor.  
He yanks the medicine cabinet open.  
Three kinds of toothpaste, including one that's not a paste, it's a powder. Two kinds of mouthwash, four kinds of lip balm, three kinds of dental floss. Two kinds of contact lens solution and half a dozen plain plastic contact lens cases.  
Dom reaches for a lip balm, grimaces, and slings the cabinet door shut again. He turns, glancing around the rest of the bathroom. His frown suddenly clears. There's a medium size bottle of baby oil sitting on the corner of the tub. Dom grabs the bottle and tears back down the stairs, skittering to a halt at the door of the living room.  
Orli's kissing Elijah, pushing his mouth hard from side to side against Elijah's. Elijah's still got a handful of Orli's shirt, fisting it so tight that his knuckles are stark white. Orli's hand is still working between Elijah's legs, behind Elijah's balls. Elijah has pulled one bare foot up onto the edge of the couch seat, his heel digging deep into the cushion. His small body is arching tensely, not rocking or pumping or making any kind of coherent movement in response to the careful press and circle of Orli's fingertips, just straining upwards until Elijah's flanks quiver with the effort.  
"Fuck," Dom sighs.  
Orli's pulls his mouth off Elijah's, and lifts his head to stare at Dom.  
"Fuck," Dom says again with more edge.  
"Dom came back," Orli murmurs to Elijah.  
"Oh God, good," Elijah says, his voice very high and thin.  
Dom crawls into the space between Elijah and the end of the couch.  
"Dom," Elijah breathes, letting his head tip away from Orli's shoulder though he keeps his eyes shut.  
"Hey, how you doing little hobbit?" Dom says.  
"Nnnn," Elijah says, pushing his chin upwards, offering his open mouth like a hungry little bird.  
"You liking that?" Dom grins.  
Elijah nods, tendrils of his hair catching and curving on the cloth of the couch cushions.  
"Kisses," he says, without opening his eyes.  
"Let Orli give you kisses," Dom says, flipping the cap up on the bottle of baby oil. "I've got something else for you."  
Orli laughs slightly, dipping his face to Elijah's, but watching from the corners of his eyes as Dom leans over. Dom palms the soft weight of Elijah's balls, lifting them up to expose Orli's index and middle fingers still massaging patiently in the crease of Elijah's behind. Elijah moans, a soft trembling sound against Orli's cheek.  
Dom tilts the bottle, letting the clear fluid drizzle slightly over Orli's fingertips. Elijah gasps, his eyes flashing open.  
"It's okay, you're okay," Orli says at once. "It's just a little bit of baby oil."  
"Oh shit," Elijah whispers.  
"Shh, shh," Orli insists.  
He slides his fingers down a little, gathering the trickle of oil that's running down the crease of Elijah's behind, and then up again, circling with the same slow stroke, increasing the pressure just enough to push his fingertips in.  
"Oh, oh shit," Elijah says loudly.  
"Do you want me to stop?" Orli breathes, as Dom dribbles a little oil over the junction between his own hand and Elijah's balls and lets his palm drag like velvet upwards to the root of Elijah's cock. "Do you want us to stop?"  
"No. Fuck God no," Elijah sighs.  
Dom works a curving twist of his hand up the shaft of Elijah's cock and around the head. The skin's cool and clammy, a little sticky with the traces of semen. Dom pours some more oil between his fingers, and works his grip up and down a little. Elijah gasps, rapid staccato little clicks of breath between his teeth.  
"Put your foot down," Orli says to Elijah. "Try to relax – you're making yourself too tight."  
Elijah's heel skids and then slips, and he lowers his leg. Orli frowns a little, giving a more deliberate nuance to the turn of his fingers. Dom lifts his eyebrows questioningly; Orli shakes his head slightly, shrugs, and leans forward to kiss Dom.  
"I'm getting nowhere fast, here," Orli murmurs when he breaks the kiss.  
"That's okay," Dom grins. "I'm not in a hurry. I like it where I am."  
They look down, at Elijah sprawled naked and flushed, his eyelashes quivering against his cheeks and his mouth abandoned on a sort of half-exhaled sigh that never quite ends. He shifts very slightly with each push of Orli's fingers, with each pull of Dom's hand.  
"I think we should turn him over," Orli says after another minute or two. "It'd probably go easier."  
Dom nods, and drops his head to nudge his nose against Elijah's face.  
"Hear that, Lij? We're gonna do you over easy."  
Elijah visibly floats up out of the bliss, dragging himself back to coherence.  
"Wha – what?"  
"Turn over," Orli says gently.  
He eases his fingertips free, drawing another breathy oh from Elijah's parted lips.  
It takes both of them – Orli and Dom – to scoop up the loose assemblage of limbs and skin and sighs they've reduced Elijah to. He sags onto his stomach, his arms half-folded under his head, his knees on the floor, his little pale behind slightly stuck out as he pulls his hips away from the front edge of the couch seat, giving his cock room to half-hang, half stick out.  
Dom, grinning, knees in behind Elijah, both hands shaping down the slender curves of Elijah's back.  
"Lij, Lijah, Doodles," Dom hums.  
"Hnn," Elijah says, his voice muffled in the couch cushions.  
Dom takes an open-mouthed taste of Elijah's left shoulder-blade. Elijah's skin tastes salty, slightly soapy. Dom drags the edges of his teeth over skin, over dense smooth flesh. Elijah wriggles, clearly impatient. Dom growls, smears his hand down Elijah's back to cup one cheek of his behind. When Dom squeezes, Elijah's hips jerk sharply – towards him, not away.  
Dom tilts, twists, so he can work his mouth down Elijah's back, biting and licking and smearing his lips over Elijah's white skin, leaving faint petals of pale pink behind him.  
"Dom ... Dom," Elijah murmurs, lifting his head, arching his back, squirming under Dom's mouth. "Dom."  
Dom slips a couple of fingers between his own mouth and Elijah's skin, and flicks his tongue wetly around them. He reaches down, tracing the cleft of Elijah's behind from his tailbone down to the underside of his balls, and back up, stopping when he reaches Elijah's anus.  
The muscle twitches under his fingertips, tense but definitely willing to be persuaded. Dom rubs gently, feeling the difference in contact as his spit overlies the sheen of baby oil. Dom puts his fingers to his mouth again, gets them as wet as he can without just drooling down Elijah's back, and touches again.  
Elijah's clearly intrigued by the new lubrication too, jerking his hips minutely to work the contact of Dom's fingers against his skin.  
"Put your knees apart a bit more," Dom says.  
Elijah does it; Orli exhales with an odd, angular sound. Dom leans in, blows softly against Elijah's anus to see it tighten up, then slowly ease again. Dom glances at Orli, who's breathing shakily through his open mouth. Dom spreads both hands over Elijah's behind; he works up a mouthful of saliva and spits right on Elijah's anus. Elijah jerks sharply, grunts.  
When Dom's thumbs smear a little further apart, pushing the globes of Elijah's buttocks up and apart, and Elijah feels the stir of Dom's breath right against the twitching opening of his body, he can't hold onto the faint delusion that Dom isn't ... isn't planning to ...  
"No," Elijah says sharply, "don't."  
The bud of his anus pouts, flexes. Dom takes a long deep shaky breath, filling his lungs with the dark musky smell of Elijah's body.  
"Shh," Orli says, petting haphazardly at Elijah's hair, Elijah neck, Elijah's shoulder. "S'okay, s'okay, just let him ... fuck ... just let him."  
Elijah twists his head again, staring at Orli, wide-eyed, wild.  
"Please," Orli winces, his body hitching and rocking blindly, trying to cheat something out of the pressure of his jeans and the edge of the couch. "Please let him."  
Elijah's dry-sobbing, squirming and shifting, his face red and his eyes almost glassine.  
"P-lease," Orli breathes, putting his head down next to Elijah's, "please ... please ... "  
Elijah stills, mesmerized by how the word rests weightless and almost silent on Orli's thin lips.  
"Yes," Orli mouths.  
Elijah nods once, his skin whispering against the cloth beneath his cheek. He and Orli are motionless, eyes locked together, holding each other's breath, waiting for the liquid touch of Dom's tongue against Elijah's hole.  
Dom licks very gently, concentrating on getting everything very wet first. The color surges up in Elijah's face all over again.  
"Isn't that nice?" Orli breathes. "Isn't that good?"  
Elijah pulls his own lower lip between his teeth, and squeezes his eyes more tightly closed. Dom slides his thumbs up and down in the spit-slick gathering between the cheeks of Elijah's behind. Elijah squirms again. Dom pushes in with his mouth and chin, flipping the tip of his tongue around haphazardly.  
Elijah's pushing against the back of the couch with his hands, the slender muscles in his arms tensing until they tremble.  
"It's – oh - oh - "  
Dom growls, a rumble of sound that Elijah feels shuddering its way up his spine. There's a gloss of sweat gathering between his shoulder blades, prickling like hot needles on his skin. Dom's tongue wriggles, pokes, pushes hard; his thumbs press on some sweet-spot that Elijah guesses is somewhere below his waist and between his legs, though the signals from his extremities are utterly scrambled, and the heat and weight and pressure fills his body evenly from neck to knees.  
Dom stabs with his tongue, and Elijah's body capitulates. Elijah makes an incredible noise – horrified, ecstatic, disbelieving.  
"Oh God – Orli - "  
"Fuck yeah," Orli snarls, pushing his face against Elijah's, biting the next grunting gasp right off Elijah's lips.  
Elijah's breath falls in and out of his lungs, not quite sounded sighs and moans driven by each push and curl of Dom's tongue inside him.  
Dom pulls back a little, his nose and mouth and chin glossed with spit.  
"Elijah, put your hands where my hands are," he says, his voice cloying and liquid.  
"Wh – no ..." Elijah murmurs.  
"Yes," Dom insists. "Come on, you wanna be dignified or you wanna have a good time?"  
Elijah shifts abruptly, reaching back with both arms, leaving himself braced uncomfortably on his chest and shoulders. He pushes Dom's hands aside, gripping himself and pulling apart the cheeks of his behind a good deal less gently than Dom has been. The pucker of his anus is stretched palely pink; Dom closes his eyes for a second, mouthing a very short and not particularly pious prayer.  
"Yeah, way to go man," Orli says softly. "Always up for a bit of a laugh, our little hobbit."  
Elijah turns his head sharply, his expression very far from amusement as he looks up at Orli's face.  
Dom takes up the bottle of oil and slicks both hands generously, then parks the bottle at the foot of the couch again. Dom dips forward again, his tongue thrust out like a softly curved blade. Elijah gasps, his eyelids fluttering heavily. Dom twists his head, screwing his tongue inwards, savoring the way Elijah's body yields willingly if not exactly easily. He reaches between Elijah's thighs, capturing the thick shaft of his cock in one hand and the slack weight of his balls in the other. Elijah groans, blurry edged and brazen.  
"Fuck," Orli grins.  
He traces the length of Elijah's spine with his fingertip, from the nape of Elijah's neck where silky tendrils of dark hair are plastered against his skin, down past his tail bone, down until the very tip of Orli's finger is tucked against the hot wet cleft where Dom's tongue is piercing Elijah's body. Dom glances up at Orli from under his eyelashes; Orli sticks his own tongue out. Dom's amusement is a low hum that makes Elijah's soft groans turn edgy for a second.  
Dom's left hand works a slow steady pull on Elijah's cock, drawing it downwards between Elijah's thighs despite its springy resistance. Elijah makes small hoarse noises, little groans and growls and hiccups.  
"Pretty Lij, pretty Lijah," Orli murmurs, brushing his lips against Elijah's ear, against his shoulder, against the pale skin of his back.  
"Oh ... oh," Elijah sighs, each hitch of his breath edging like a sob.  
Dom's got something utterly luscious going, his tongue stabbing and stroking and sliding, his spit smearing over his chin and trickling down behind Elijah's balls. His left hand is milking Elijah's cock, working firmly over the hard oily flesh, while his right hand cradles and caresses the firming mass of Elijah's balls. Dom's whole body follows the press and pull of his tongue, his hips rocking gently, the tension of denim over his erection giving him too little just enough – pressure, friction, just a sidelong tease of sensation with each shift of his weight.  
Orli's breathing gets rougher. He bites softly at Elijah's flesh, and drags his lips over soap-sweet salt-sour skin.  
"Come on," he whispers hoarsely, his gaze meeting Dom's. "Come on."  
"Oh God," Elijah wails, his body flexing against the soft pain of Dom's tongue.  
Orli reaches with his free hand for the bottle of oil, flips the cap. Dom pulls back, twisting his head to wipe his mouth and chin on his own bare shoulder. Orli tilts the bottle, dribbling oil over the tip of his finger where it still lies against the rim of Elijah's anus. Elijah waivers another shaky cry, pushing back as if greedy for more of the whisper-warmth of the oil dropping on his skin. Orli tenses his wrist, making his hand and finger immobile, fixed; Elijah pushing back impales himself on the very tip of Orli's finger. Orli's eyes narrow, razor bright, and his pushes his finger a little deeper.  
"Jesus God," Elijah sobs, "Jesus God."  
"Fuck," Dom mouths at Orli. "Fuck ... fuck ..."  
Orli's tongue curls out his mouth, touching the indentation beneath the tip of his nose. He pushes deeper, his big knuckle catching a little in the ring of muscle and then easing past and in. Elijah's sobbing, high breathless sounds that could be pain or pleasure or just shock.  
"Keep breathing," Orli says, leaning low to murmur in Elijah's ear but keeping his eyes on Dom's face. "Keep breathing."  
"Fuck," Dom says very very distinctly. "Fuck."  
Orli picks up the rhythm – disjointed but there – that Dom's hands are working on Elijah's genitals. For a moment – for a moment that's an endless red-haze age to Elijah – they push and pull and slide and stroke and Elijah's an anchorless thing being washed back and forth between them. Then Dom drags his hands over Elijah one last time, and lets him go. Elijah shudders out a big bereft sigh. Orli pushes his finger deeper, making up in intensity what Elijah's lost in multiplicity.  
Dom palms his already open jeans down off his hips, and grabs for the oil. He fills his palm, and smothers his own cock in the warm glassine fluid. Orli grins, working his finger inside Elijah's body in counterpoint to the tug of Dom's fist around his own cock.  
Dom reaches out, sliding his fingers over Orli's. Orli withdraws slowly, leaving the field to Dom. Dom knees his way in closer behind Elijah and takes his cock in his hand.  
"Dom, man," Orli says, reaching out with one hand but not actually touching him. "I don't know if this is - "  
"Elijah," Dom says firmly. "I'm gonna fuck you, and I need you to say 'yes'. I need you to tell Orli the answer is 'yes'."  
"Yes," Elijah snarls, his fingers indenting white haloes in his pale pink skin. "Yes, please, yes."  
"Jesus Christ," Orli breathes, dropping his hand between his own thighs and gripping his balls.  
Dom glances over his shoulder at him, eyes thundercloud dark, and then looks back at what he's doing himself. Orli watches as Dom works the tip of his cock between the cheeks of Elijah's behind, rubbing the smooth blunt tip up and down and around with enough push to seat himself against the hot slippery opening but not actually penetrate it.  
Orli moves his grip to the root of his cock and pulls slowly up along the length of his shaft, hissing in his breath between bared teeth.  
Dom grimaces, his muscles trembling with the tension of holding his balance around the single point of almost-connection between his body and Elijah's. He pushes forwards, slowly, so slowly, with exquisite control. For a second – two seconds – three seconds Elijah's body resists, and the pressure thrums maddeningly though Dom's cock.  
Elijah's body yields slightly, letting Dom's glans sit down into the ring of muscle. Dom catches his breath; he shifts and resettles his weight on both knees and one hand. He pushes again, his flanks hollowing with carefully controlled exertion. Elijah squirms slightly. His anus flexes, relaxes; the tip of Dom's cock pushes inside.  
Elijah whimpers breathily.  
"Okay, let go, Elijah," Dom says shakily. "You don't need to hold yourself anymore."  
Orli grabs the bottle of baby oil and flips the cap. His hand's shaking badly enough for him to squirt oil on his right thigh as well as into his palm. He skids the cap closed again and drops the bottle, then lavishes the handful of oil down the shaft of his cock and under his balls.  
Dom sinks inch by inch into Elijah's body. Elijah's whimpering turns to slightly voiced gasps.  
"Jesus," Dom breathes. "Jesus fuck."  
Orli licks his lips, one hand squeezing tight around the head of his own cock and the other rubbing up and down behind his balls.  
"Aw man that is so fucking hot, yeah," he husks.  
Dom grins, wolf-teethed, and arches his back to embed himself all the way in Elijah's bottom. Elijah gives a little wavering cry; his arms and legs move aimlessly. He looks like a pale little starfish pinned under Dom's flushed and freckled body.  
"Elijah," Orli says, rolling his weight from his right heel to his left so he's oriented more towards Elijah's head than the place where Dom's cock is rooting carefully up into Elijah's rectum.  
Elijah turns his head, gathering his right arm in under his cheek. His face is flushed deep red, his eyes glow neon blue. He opens his mouth, breathing a silent 'oh' when he sees Orli's hands working slow strong strokes over his own genitals.  
Dom eases his body down until he's lying belly to back on Elijah, his weight on his elbows. Dom stirs his hips a little; Elijah whines shakily, unsure what to make of the sensations churning through his guts.  
"I bet he's really fucking good, yeah," Orli grins, never taking his eyes off Elijah's face. "I bet he's really fucking tight."  
"Fucking incredible," Dom says.  
Elijah's face flushes even redder, and he closes his eyes.  
"Hey hey," Orli says softly. "Don't be shy, little hobbit. Look. Look what I've got for you."  
Elijah opens his eyes again, and even manages a crooked smile when Orli gets up on his knees and leans over so the oily head of his cock pushes through the circle of his fingers and thumb just inches from Elijah's face. Dom starts to hitch his hips up and down. Elijah's smile smears into an open-mouthed groan.  
"Jesus," Dom mutters. "Fucking Jesus."  
Orli tips over, his weight on his knees and his hand braced on the other side of Elijah's head. He guides his cock closer to Elijah's mouth. Elijah grunts, pushing up slightly on his right elbow and opening his mouth wider. Orli uses his hand to blunder the tip of his cock around and over Elijah's mouth, leaving glossy smears of precum and oil on his lips and under his nose. Elijah curls his tongue out, trying to swipe at Orli's glans.  
"Suck it." Orli says, finally circling in and putting the top of his cock into Elijah's open mouth.  
Elijah closes his eyes, his lips clamping around Orli's shaft and his cheeks hollowing as he pulls hard. Orli hisses, winces, squeezes his hand around his own balls.  
Dom pushes up onto his knees slightly, pulling all but the head of his cock out of Elijah's body. He starts working a short smooth pump with just the top couple of inches of his shaft. Orli, grinning breathlessly, copies the motion with his cock in Elijah's mouth.  
"That is insanely fucking hot," Dom says, staring at Orli's amber-dark cock sliding between Elijah's blood-red lips.  
"It's fucking killing my back," Orli complains, pulling out of Elijah's mouth with a spitty little pop.  
"Oh God," Elijah says, his voice very thin.  
"Get him up on his knees, man," Orli says, sitting back on his heels.  
"You good with that, Lij?" Dom asks.  
"Yeah," Elijah slurs softly.  
"Okay, let's back it up," Dom says.  
He takes his weight more fully onto his knees, holding Elijah by the hips to keep the two of them connected as Elijah moves back and up as well. The inevitable mismatch in their movements pulls Dom's cock a little further out of Elijah's bottom and then pushes it abruptly in again. Elijah groans loudly; his arms quiver as he tries to support himself on his hands.  
Orli slithers into a better position in front of Elijah: squatting with his thighs spread wide-apart, and his back against the seat-cushions of the couch. He rests one elbow on the seat of the couch, drops the other hand between his legs to stroke the oil-slide skin behind his balls.  
Elijah drops his head, trying to capture the slightly bobbing tip of Orli's cock in his mouth. Orli helpfully takes hold of his shaft with his free hand and holds it steady.  
"Go down on your elbows," Dom says, touching Elijah's right shoulder.  
Elijah does as he's told, sinking down so that Orli's cock tilts and slides deep into his mouth and Dom's cock tilts and slides deep into his behind. Elijah tries to moan, but the sound's smothered to a faint hum around Orli's cock.  
"Aw – fuck yeah," Orli smiles, letting go of his cock and putting that hand on the top of Elijah's head.  
The kitten-fluff tufts of Elijah's dark hair stick up between Orli's splayed fingers.  
"You're fucking precious, Lij," Dom says, stroking his fingers down the rose-white valley of Elijah's spine.  
"Gorgeous," Orli agrees.  
It's Orli who sets the pace, really, rocking a little on the balls of his feet, his hips flexing up and forwards, down and back, easy and weightless as tapping his foot. His cock slips smoothly in and out of Elijah's mouth. Orli tips his head from side to side, grins and gapes until his jaw pops. Elijah moves in slight counterpoint to Orli, forward when Orli rocks forward and back when Orli rocks back, doubling the scope of each stroke. Elijah's not in a position to do much else; his mouth is little more than a passive receptacle. He concentrates on keeping his lips in play and his teeth out of the way, and swallowing often enough to stop the generous gloss of spit on Orli's cock from getting completely out of control.  
"Yeah, that's fucking nice," Orli murmurs.  
Dom moves with Elijah, his hips just a half-beat off the rhythm so that his cock works in and out a little with each swing of Elijah's body. Dom grins open-mouthed at Orli over the snowy slope of Elijah's bare back.  
Elijah's cock sways between his thighs. The pendulum pull of weight and heat makes the blood pound in his glans.  
"F...uck," Orli breathes, tipping his head right back.  
Dom slides his hands forwards, over the lean curves of Elijah's behind and up along the softly working muscles on either side of Elijah's spine. Leaning forward pushes Dom's cock deeper into Elijah's body; something flexes inside him, squeezing Dom's cock more tightly, making the connection between them heavier and darker. Dom groans, raking his fingers back down Elijah's back.  
"Jesus, he's fucking beautiful," Orli says, dropping his head forwards again.  
"Yeah."  
Elijah, cherry-cheeked, glances up at Orli from under the black thicket of his eyelashes. His eyes are ink-blue, and over-dilated.  
Dom tries to recapture the swift shallow stroke, the one he can keep up pretty much indefinitely, but Elijah's flexing his body with more deliberation now, pushing greedily forward onto Orli's cock and then back onto Dom's.  
"Fuck," Orli sighs.  
Elijah's cock is thickening up, swaying less supplely between his legs. In the general dissolution of boundaries inside Elijah, the growing heat and heaviness low in his guts somehow functions to unknot the tension in his throat, letting him take Orli's cock much deeper.  
"Oh ... fuck," Orli says.  
"Jesus fuck," Dom grins.  
Elijah's bottom clenches insistently around Dom's cock.  
"Oh," Dom groans. "I'm not gonna last much longer."  
Orli groans sympathetically, though he's in a pretty good head-space himself – plenty of heat and slip, but not enough friction or pressure to actually bring anything to a conclusion.  
"Elijah, ease off," he says softly, touching Elijah's cheek. "No, come on, stop."  
Orli twists his hips, pulling his cock aside from Elijah's mouth. Elijah's lips are glassine shiny, and red as berry juice.  
"Kneel up. Can you kneel up?" Orli asks.  
Elijah's body is a soft shambles, all smiles and sighs and shaking limbs. He winds limp arms around Orli's neck, and lets Orli do the work of getting them both up onto their knees. The shift of emphasis in the connection between Elijah's behind and Dom's cock makes Elijah murmur.  
"Nice?" Orli smiles, nipping kisses on the flushed bridge of Elijah's nose and across his cheekbones.  
Elijah nods, too busy sorting in-breaths and out-breaths and the suddenly overwhelming rush of sensation when Dom starts move again to actually say anything. With the weight of Elijah's body bearing straight down, everything feels tighter and more intense than before. Dom smears his palms up and down over Elijah's hipbones.  
"Jesus," Dom breathes against Elijah's ear. "Jesus."  
Orli brushes his mouth over Elijah's, pushes his tongue between pillow-soft lips. Elijah's mouth is full of the dense heat and humming non-taste of baby oil. Elijah's body rocks gently against Orli's, transmitting the push and pull of Dom's cock.  
"Oh Jesus," Dom says again, more loudly.  
Orli's hands butterfly all over the front of Elijah's body, throat and chest and stomach, hips and hard-on. Elijah stutters a little gasp when Orli's fingers flutter along the shaft of his cock. Orli drags his lips lightly over Elijah's open mouth, tasting each little hitch of Elijah's breath. Orli glances past Elijah, narrowing his eyes at the sight of Dom's hardening expression.  
"You okay there, Dom?" Orli smirks.  
Dom grits his teeth, the bridge of his nose and the tips of his ears flushing deep red.  
"Fuck – you," he manages to gasp, just as his body quivers into orgasm.  
Elijah gasps against Orli's shoulder, trembling as Dom shoves and thrusts and then unravels his weight against Elijah's back.  
"Yeah," Orli says softly. "Yeah, good job."  
He kisses Elijah's eyelids and nostrils and lips. Elijah's breathing grows increasingly ragged.  
"Dom, you need to get out of him," Orli says.  
Dom grunts. He takes a fresh grip on Elijah's hips and pulls back slowly. Elijah cries out, shocked by the sudden shift in the universe.  
"Jesus," Dom says, letting himself collapse backwards on the floor in a splay of bare limbs. "I'm fucking dead."  
"How you doin'?" Orli says, nudging against Elijah's cheek. "You okay?"  
Elijah nods sloppily, his head tipping around loosely on his neck. Orli strokes his thumbs down the sweat-slick skin of Elijah's breastbone, outwards under the flare of his ribs. He pushes at Elijah's mouth with his lips. Elijah mumbles something meaningless, and lets his head fall back. Orli rocks slightly, pushing his erection against Elijah's belly.  
"So … are you gonna let me, too?" Orli murmurs.  
Elijah whines, letting his head drop forward onto Orli's shoulder. Orli's body coils, tension springing into every muscle between one breath and the next.  
"Yeah," he says. "Yeah, you are, you're gonna let me."  
Elijah closes his eyes, his head tipping and tilting, letting Orli spill them both back against the edge of the couch cushions.  
"Yeah, yeah," Orli murmurs. "Come on, get up there."  
Elijah scrambles, loose-limbed, letting Orli scoop him - arms and legs and spine - onto the seat of the couch.  
"Fuck yeah," Orli says.  
He flips Elijah over onto his back, Elijah's thighs splaying open and his arms falling into haphazard folds above his head. Orli rears up his knees, catching hold of Elijah's ankles and pulling him forward.  
"Come on," Orli says huskily.  
"Jesus," Dom says.  
Orli pushes back on Elijah's shins, forcing Elijah's knees down to his chest. Elijah exhales hard, but he flexes supplely under Ori's weight.  
"Fuck yeah," Orli grins, leaning in over Elijah.  
Elijah's breathing hard, his toes flexing and curling against Orli's ribs.  
"Jesus," Dom says.  
"Oh yeah," Orli says, holding his cock in his hand and dragging it slowly up and down the cleft of Elijah's behind.  
Elijah shudders a deep breath.  
"No problem," Orli says, "you won't even feel –  
he pushes in, his cock gliding on the slick of oil and semen already coating Elijah's skin,  
\- a thing."  
The noise Elijah makes – deep and guttural and aghast – suggests that Orli's wrong, that Elijah is feeling something, is feeling everything ...  
"Y...eah," Orli grins.  
He leans back a little, taking hold of Elijah's ankles and drawing Elijah's legs out. Elijah wraps his thighs around Orli's waist and hooks his ankles together at the back of Orli's thighs. Orli reaches under Elijah, interlocking his fingers at the base of Elijah's spine, lifting him slightly.  
Dom rolls up onto his elbow, watching intently.  
Orli rocks his hips a little, just a tease of movement. Elijah moans very quietly. Orli's back whip-snaps, ramming himself into Elijah hard enough to make Elijah grunt in shock. Orli pulls back, goes back to rocking his hips very slightly.  
"Fuck," Elijah says shakily.  
Orli tips his chin up, swallowing air, trying not to look down at Elijah – sweating and shaking, bare and beautiful.  
Orli shoves again, so hard he cries out too from the sudden slide and smear and stunning explosion of heat and sensation. Elijah squirms, his hands closing on Orli's wrists.  
"Mm-more," Elijah stutters.  
"Oh fuck," Dom mumbles, dragging himself up onto his knees so he can put his hand on the back of Orli's hip, so he can feel the little pulse of Orli's muscles idling forwards and back again.  
Orli takes Elijah at his word. He thrusts hard – two – three – four times, no rhythm or consistent angle, just a tumble of separate shoving sliding stabbing wrenches of his cock in Elijah's behind. Elijah convulses, his slender chest bowing upwards and his head dropping back, his throat pulled taut as he cries out again.  
Dom's breathing unevenly at Orli's ear.  
"Fuck. Fuck ... fuck him," Dom gasps, slicing his thumb down the ribbon of sweat on Orli's spine.  
Orli shifts, one hand flat on Elijah's stomach, the other holding Elijah's balls up out of the way so he can get an unobstructed view of his cock in Elijah's anus.  
"Fuck him," Dom begs.  
Orli presses his narrow lips together, half-closes his eyes. He pulls back for a beat, and then leans in. He starts fast – short smooth strokes that make Elijah crazy, make him spit and snarl and squirm – and goes faster, the movement jerky and shallow and rough enough that Elijah just yells, a long wordless shapeless shout of ecstasy.  
Dom crawls on his hands and knees around them, climbs up onto the couch beside Elijah.  
"Fucking gorgeous," Dom mutters, "fucking fucking fucking gorgeous."  
Elijah is splotched dark red across the bridge of his nose and down the side of his neck and over the top of his chest. His skin is slick with sweat, streaked with smears of oil from Orli's hands. His cock – deep red, almost purple at the tip – is bouncing stiffly against his belly with each shove of Orli's hips.  
Elijah wrenches his hand off Orli and grabs at Dom, catching him by the nape of the neck and jerking him forward onto his elbows.  
"Dom," Elijah grinds between clenched teeth.  
"Fuck," Dom says, round eyed.  
Elijah pulls him in even closer, shoving his face into Dom's, smearing his mouth over Dom's lips.  
"Fuck," Dom gasps into Elijah's mouth.  
Elijah's keening, sobbing, snarling. Dom tries to kiss him, tries to curl his tongue into Elijah's mouth, but Elijah's biting and bruising and bitching at him.  
"No, down, go ..."  
Elijah's voice shatters into a full blooded cry as Orli twists his hips, shoving his cock from side to side inside Elijah's body.  
"Fuck!" Elijah yells.  
"Easy," Dom snaps, "you're okay - "  
"I'm not fucking – okay," Elijah gasps, arching his back to give Orli a better angle. "I'm gonna go fucking insane – suck me."  
He shoves at Dom's arm, but Dom's body has gone slack with shock and he just rocks slightly.  
"What?" Dom demands.  
"Suck – my fucking – cock," Elijah pants, every shove of Orli's hips driving his breath out in a low grunt. "Come on man, your mouth's never fucking shut; do some good with it."  
"Oh yeh grabby fuckin' cunt," Dom complains, though he's tipping over to lean on one elbow and grab hold of Elijah's cock with his free hand.  
Elijah snarls, teeth bared.  
"Yeah yeah fuck come on fuck fuck ... "  
"Fuck," Orli breathes. "If you're gonna do that, Dom, you better hurry up. He's winding up inside, I feel it, he's like a fucking vise."  
Dom groans, drops his head, swallows Elijah's cock. Elijah's body quivers, his cock already streaming, sour and salty and so so ready to come.  
"Ah, yeah," Orli gasps. "Yeah yeah yeah - "  
Dom reaches out blindly, his hand grazing Orli's belly, ribs, chest. Dom presses with his fingers, feeling the pounding of Orli's heart and the rasp of his breath, feeling the transmitted hitch and hammer of his hips as he pounds into Elijah, feeling the stutter in his rhythm as he tries to hold on just a little longer.  
Elijah arches again and Dom's feels the flutter and then the pulse and the push of semen on his tongue. He swallows, breathes, comes close to choking and then gets control again.  
"Ah fuck yeah," Orli sighs, his head tipping back and his body tensing and then curling limply forward over Elijah, over Dom.  
"Suffocating," Dom says after a few seconds, when he's spit Elijah's cock out onto Elijah's belly.  
There's a general grumble and some gasping as they unravel themselves a bit. Orli pulls his cock out of Elijah's bottom. Elijah groans, lets his legs flop down from around Orli's hips.  
"Oh man. That is fucked up shit," Elijah says hoarsely.  
"Oh, my fucking back," Orli winces, falling forward on Elijah's thighs.  
"That was fucking excellent," Dom laughs.  
"Yeah," Elijah says, wiping sweat off his face with the heel of his hand.  
"Not bad, not bad, for your second and third times," Orli says, patting Elijah's knee.  
"What d'you mean, my second and third times?" Elijah asks.  
"Dude, you're bendy but there's no way you've taken it up the arse more than once before," Orli grins.  
"I've never taken it up the arse before," Elijah says indignantly.  
There's a sudden silence.  
"Ah," Orli says after a bit.  
"You said you weren't a virgin," Dom protests.  
"I meant with a girl," Elijah says, shoving his bare foot into Dom's chest.  
"Ah."  
"Oh."  
"Well ... I think you were probably gay anyway," Orli says at last. "So, no real harm done."  
"Yeah, he's right, you were clearly a raving queer anyway," Dom smirks. "The haircut was bit obvious."  
"Fuck you," Elijah smiles.  
"Oooh, excellent," Dom says. "My house, tomorrow night. I'll supply the booze this time because Orli here can't be trusted not to bring something pink."  
"You don't want to go to the pub?" Orli asks slyly.  
"I don't think I ever want to go to the pub again," Dom laughs.

The End.


End file.
